


Night Divine

by Muze



Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: 12 Days of Sanditon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muze/pseuds/Muze
Summary: By the time another document was written about the celebration of the New Year, it was noted that all people of twenty-two years of age were transported into the body of their soulmate for sixty seconds at the end of the year in which they turned twenty-two. Crowe was too inebriated to leave behind anything that could give away his identity, and was thus doomed to never meet his soulmate. Sidney and Babington strove to learn from their friend's mistake.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker, Clara Brereton/Mr. Crowe, Lord Babington/Esther Denham
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	Night Divine

Scholars had studied ancients texts for centuries trying to understand how it had come to be.

But in the end, they all came to the same conclusion: the beginning of the new year had always been celebrated. There were enough tales by the romans and greeks confirming they, and even the pagan regions had their ways of celebrating the event.

After the collapse of the roman empire, written documents were harder to come by. By the time another document was written about the celebration of the New Year, it was noted that all people of twenty-two years of age were transported into the body of their soulmate for sixty seconds at the end of the year in which they turned twenty-two.

Whenever someone turned twenty-two, the New Year Party was usually moved to New Year’s Day, so that on the last night of the year, the whole family could gather and organize a party for the family member turning twenty-two. It had become known as Night Divine, since God showed his divine judgement on that night, creating unions as he deemed fit.

Though this was tradition, many preferred to have at least some measure of privacy when it happened. It was also rarely celebrated by those in the highest ranks in society, where soulmates rarely married, and many young ladies were wed before they reached the age of twenty-two. They spent the night in private, and when they were transported into the bodies of their soulmates, they tried not to find out who the other was. They shed their tears in private as well, for having seen their soulmate without ever being able to meet them. Unless money troubles forced young people to wed, most refrained from it until they were past the age of twenty-two. This was not to say love was not found before that time. Many young couples dreaded the moment the first of them turned twenty-two.

Of course, the day wasn’t always a happy one. There were struggles: people who reached the age of twenty-two and weren’t transported into another being. In the best case their soulmate wasn’t born yet or too young so they couldn’t leave a note or name behind , and they would have to wait until their soulmate turned twenty-two so they could find them in turn. Then there were those who didn’t have a soulmate or a soulmate who had died too soon. There were quite some people who got notes in another language, or with an address from another country. However, most times, the person seemed to be from their own country, a grace of God.

It was 1813 when Matthew Crowe was catapulted out of his own body on the Divine Night of New Year’s Eve, and thrown into the body of another lady.

He had been home for all of three months after the war had ended, and had not spent a day sober since. As the fourth son to a baronet, he’d tried gaining glory and rising in his father’s esteem by joining the military. This had not been an original idea, since sons two and three, who had always been better people, had joined first. However, Crowe was the only one to return home. And he was the only one of his friends to return home as well. He’d quit the military the second he set foot on English soil again, but the haunting memories hadn’t quit him. He quickly discovered that if he drank too much, he’d have a deep dark dreamless sleep. As one might imagine, he was in London away from his family, and had spent no thoughts on the importance of the New Year’s Eve he was about to have. He’d stumbled out of the cards room where Parker and Babington sat to relieve himself, when the bells started ringing to announce the new year.

In a spacious green living room he didn’t recognize, sat people he didn’t recognize. Everything was strange and weird and he was still drunk. He stumbled through the room, through a pair of white doors and landed in an apartment hallway, before being catapulted back into his own body.

He’d ran back towards the card room as fast as he could, and threw up before being able to tell his friends about it. He was glad they asked so many questions, and he was glad they weren’t as shitfaced as him, because the next morning, he woke up with an incredible hangover and didn’t remember a thing. His friends managed to tell him he’d gone into the body of a young woman somewhere in a city. But they couldn’t tell him anything about her name, country or looks. He’d fucked up beyond compare. But the shock of having squandered away his soulmate was enough to get his alcohol problem back to a manageable level.

Luckily for Crowe, there was a backup, since the day he had visited his soulmate, there had been a link between the two. He knew things he used to know nothing about, like slavery and politics. And sometimes his body ached without him having injured himself. It was the bond. Crowe found it a lot of bollocks. He didn’t need their pain or knowledge, he needed their name.

It had also been a lesson for his friends, who turned twenty-two the following year. They had prepared for the event as well as they could. They knew all pieces of advice out there: don’t waste time on any talking until you get your name and address out, try to write in multiple languages if you can’t figure out where you are, don’t let propriety keep you for calling out for help as quickly as possible, if all else failed they had to use pieces of furniture to spell their surname or write their name in their own blood. They had chosen to celebrate New Year’s Eve in private. They’d put down papers and pens, mirrors and personal attributes in case their soulmate reached the age of twenty-two as well. On top of that, Crowe would be there to talk to their soulmates when they entered their bodies.

But instead, Crowe sat there as the bodies of his friends slumped lifelessly into their chairs.

••••••••••

The first thing Sidney Parker registered was the sound of breaking glass. Looking around him, he spotted shards of glass at his feet, or rather, her shoes, for he was thrown into the body of a sizeably shorter woman.

‘Charlotte? Charlotte?’

Sidney looked up in confusion.

‘You’re not Charlotte, are you? Oh dear, that’s quite the age gap. She’s five years younger’, the woman bemoaned.

‘No. So her name is Charlotte?’

‘Yes! But dear wife, five years is fine, it’s not too bad. I am her father, this is her mother, and these are her grandmother and grandfather on my side of the family, that’s her grandmother on her mother’s side, and these are her siblings.’

There were more siblings than Sidney could count.

Dear God, these people _clearly_ loved each other a lot.

His seconds were dwindling however.

‘My name is Sidney Parker. I live in San-‘

He’d managed to get his name across, but was frustrated that he hadn’t caught hers. There were thousands of Charlotte’s in the country. But her family was friendly,

••••••••••

Babington’s encounter was possibly even worse than that. For when he entered his soulmate’s body, she was already kissing someone else. He drew back quickly, red hair fluttering around his head.

‘Who are you?’

‘Who are you?’

‘You turned twenty-two too?’

The man with the blond hair nodded.

‘They don’t have pens or paper on them.’

‘They probably thought they were soulmates. Quick. Let’s call for paper and pens and tell everyone our name. We have no time to lose.’

‘Yes!’

They threw open the doors and started running, calling for paper and pens and servants. They weren’t about to end up as cautionary tales about people who took too long to analyse their situation and then failing to leave a trace behind.

‘Edward, Esther! What’s with the shouting?’

A moody old lady, whose look screamed wealth, looked at them with suspicious eyes.

‘Edward, what news of your soulmate?’

‘I’m Lord James Babbington!’

‘And I’m Miss –‘

••••••••••

Sidney and Babington were thrown back into their own bodies.

‘Well?’

‘No one came here. Congratulations. You both got yourselves younger ladies. So tell me, how was it?’

‘She had a big family. A very big one. Her name was Charlotte. Her father mother said she was five years younger than me. But the father started introducing the whole family. I only got my name across, not hers.’

‘Sucks man. But hey, they can find you. There aren’t that many Parkers in England. Now Write everything down. Every little detail. Babbers, how about you?’

‘She was kissing someone else.’

‘Ow man’, Crowe sighed.

‘The man she was kissing had just turned twenty-two. The couple probably thought they were soulmates.’

‘I’m sorry’, Sidney said, and laid a supportive hand on his shoulder.

‘It was quite confusing. The girl in the body of the blond man wasn’t the girl whose body I was in, otherwise she would have recognized herself. So the couple had gotten it wrong. We started running around, looking for a way to get our name across. Then there was this woman who addressed both me and the girl on a first name basis. I managed to say my name but then I was thrown back. I just wonder who is in the position to call both parts of a couple by a first name basis. Isn’t that odd? And then she only asked the boy about his soulmate.’

‘Perhaps the girl is still under the age of twenty-two?’

‘Yes, that’s what I assumed. But why would the woman address both parties with their first names? Come to think of it, why would you ask someone who already has a partner about their soulmate? It would destroy the relationship.’

‘If there is one.’

‘What?’

‘People only use first names in close family circles. If the couple were married, she would address at least one of them with their surname or title. So they’re not married. And the old woman knew both of them. They could be family, or very close friends. And the most logical reason one would ask such a harmful question would be if they were unaware of the inappropriateness.’

‘Have you even drank today?’

‘Not a drop. But now I can start.’

‘Those were some very strong deductive skills Crowe, you could be great if you didn’t drink so much.’

‘I’ve done my part for my country.’

‘So… They’re family… And in a secret relation?’

‘The last part makes sense, taking into accord the first. Congratulations, Babbers. You got yourself into a proper mess.’

‘Don’t talk about them that way. We’re just jumping to conclusions right now. I wonder if they’ll be able to find us.’

‘Time will tell’, decided Sidney. He hadn’t been looking forward to discovering his soulmate, after Eliza had ripped his heart out by marrying someone rich before either of them reached the age of twenty-two. He didn’t know whether he should be relieved or sad that his soulmate hadn’t been Eliza. But it did help him to process the years old heartache. He now knew he wasn’t destined to be with her, and knew he wasn’t intended to stay alone.

••••••••••

Three years passed, and they weren’t contacted by the girls. Sidney could only guess at the reasons, but Babington feared his soulmate might have decided to stay together with the blond man she’d been kissing. People sometimes didn’t want their soulmate. It had happened before. Most of the times they’d found love before finding out their soulmate, or they hated the principle that someone else decided what was best for them.

They did feel them though. Babington rarely felt anything. Sidney woke up with grazed knees a lot, and he sometimes felt annoying tingles on his arms during daytime. It was clear his soulmate was an active one. Crowe however, had it worse. He was woken up in the middle of the night a lot. His night shirt wet, and his body aching all over. Sometimes, even during the day in the middle of a conversation, he’d fall to the floor, suffering pains he could neither describe nor place. He never wanted to talk about it, but his friends were there for him.

On the end of the third year, something changed. They all kept each other from drinking too much before the stroke midnight, as they did each year since Crowe got drunk and lost his soulmate. They were playing cards at the New Year’s Eve party of the prince regent when Crowe suddenly shot up. Sidney recognized the sign and immediately took the pen and paper he’d put in his coat.

‘Who are you?’

‘Clara. Clara Brereton.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘He never looked for me before. He especially shouldn’t start now. Please, don’t let him start looking.’

‘Our friend was drunk. He couldn’t leave you a message because of it. He deeply regrets it. He knew not how to find you. Who are your parents?’

‘They’re very poor. I don’t live with them. Where am I?’

‘You are in the body of Mr. Matthew Crowe. I am Mr. Parker, this is Lord Babington. You’re at the New Year’s party of the prince regent.’

‘Oh my God.’

They’d never seen such a terrified and simultaneously impressed look in the eyes of their friend. If she was poor, it was no wonder that she felt shy to share any information when she was catapulted into such wealth.

‘Tell Mr. Crowe that I am so sorry for all the pain he must have felt. I tried to prevent it. I tried. I’m still looking for ways to put an end to it, for his sake. Do tell him I apologize. I’m fine as a person, it’s just that sometimes… Painful things happen. Don’t let him look for me please. Goodbye.’

A muscle spasm signalled that the lady had left Crowe’s body and that their friend had returned.

‘It feels so weird. When your soul isn’t the one doing the travelling, you actually stay put and you can feel them in you. She’s a strong feisty one. I like her.’

He grinned at them, but upon seeing their furrowed brows, his smile fided.

‘What?’

‘She didn’t want to give us her address.’

‘What – why?’

‘I believe she might be in bad company. She mentioned her parents being poor and being in a bad place to be visited. She also apologized for all the pain she’s caused you and wanted to assure you that she tried to prevent the pain. Crowe, could you tell us what that was about?’

Mr. Crowe ignored Babington and directed his next question at Sidney.

‘Didn’t she tell her name?’

‘Miss Brereton. Clara Brereton.’

‘I’ve heard that name before, I think. But it’s a really distant memory. I don’t know where from’, confessed Lord Babington.

‘Doesn’t sound familiar to me’, Sidney sighed.

‘But Crowe, what of it?’ Lord Babington encouraged. The curly haired man stood and shook his head.

‘I’ll be needing that drink. Night Divine my ass.’

His drinking worsened after that night. She wasn’t going to look for him, and Lord Babington tried really hard to remember where he got the name from, but he couldn’t.

Crowe checked the registers in every town he passed through, but there was no Brereton household in which any Clara lived.

He drank even more after that.

••••••••••

Once a year, he did his best to remain sober until midnight, so that he could help his friends. This year was the year Sidney knew his soulmate would reach the age of twenty-two.

Lord Babington still hadn’t heard a thing from his soulmate, he’d given up the hope that she would magically change her mind about him. So he started philandering like he had before New Year 1814, but he never got attached, and nothing ever satisfied him. She was still there, on the back of his mind, an invisible presence with no personality or surname, yet connected to him by divine fate. Though he’d gathered she was quite stubborn, from years of refusing to unite with her soulmate, or even just contacting him out of curiosity.

He hadn’t expected that, on December 31st 1819, he would get a visit from his soulmate as well.

Crowe, who was still hungover from the previous day since he hadn’t drank enough that day, Crowe, whose hands were shaking violently, almost jumped out of his chair when both of his friends fell backwards in their chairs before shooting upright.

His two friends looked around, the grouchy face of Parker being replaced by a surprised and amazed expression, and the face of his good humoured friend become guarded and haughty. It were quite strange expressions on their faces.

‘Right. Hello there, before you are mirrors so you can check out your future husbands. Please, write down your full names and addresses on these papers. Full names and addresses of Parker and Babbers are on them as well. Memorize them as well as you can, though my friends will do their utmost bests to contact you. I’m their friend: Mr. Crowe.’

Parker started writing immediately, but Babington stared at his hands, before reaching for the mirror. He looked to be quite apprehensive, touching his own face.

‘How is he?’ asked Parker’s soulmate.

‘Sidney’s a caring young man. Good sense of humour, but rather ill-humoured most days. Can be gruff, but I’m sure a kind wife will be able to knock that out of him. I’ve seen him being warm and friendly before. He’s the youngest brother of three, no worries though, he’s still rich. Yours is too, even more so, Miss.’

Babington looked up and frowned. It was a mighty strange look on him, and Crowe wished Babington would never scrutinize him in the way his soulmate was now scrutinizing him with Babington’s eyes.

‘I don’t care about wealth.’

‘He’s got a great personality too. Very friendly, very caring. He puts up with a lot of my shit.’

Babington looked away. He still hadn’t touched the paper.

‘Could you please write your name? He knows you might be together with someone else, and he won’t force himself on you. He just wants to know who you are.’

‘He would? That’s… Very kind. Tell him that even in my darkest dreams I couldn’t imagine him forgiven me for what I was doing at the moment he entered my body. That man is dead to me now. It’s why I never contacted him. I was too ashamed. And I’m not worth having. I’m not going to contact him, and I don’t want him to find me. I don’t know him, he doesn’t know me. There’s no reason why we should be together. I –‘

Despite the fact that they had all talked at an incredible speed, there still hadn’t been enough time. The bodies in front of him shook, and his friends returned to him, looking at him with expectant eyes.

Sidney grabbed the paper. ‘Charlotte Heywood. Willingden. Heywood Farm. Didn’t contact you because my parents wanted to make sure we were matched’, he read out loud.

Babington looked at the paper in front of him. ‘I’m sorry for what happened. I wish you well, Esther.’ She hadn’t given any new information.

His eyes connected with Crowe’s. His friend was crestfallen. ‘She’s not together with the man she was kissing. She was too ashamed by the event, that’s why she never contacted you. I don’t think she has a lot of confidence.’

‘She doesn’t. I could… I could feel her. It was so dark. There was humour, and a softness, but she’s not doing great I think.’

‘She said something about not being worth having. Welcome to the club man, these women just don’t want to be found.’

‘We’re forgetting someone, Crowe. Parker, how was your lady?’

‘She…’ He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep himself from laughing. ‘She’s like a ball of energy, excitement and joy. Quite overwhelming. She’ll be a handful.’

‘Congratulations, dear friend. Seems broody old you can finally meet your match. May she be the sunlight that lights your dark mood.’

Sidney Parker tried his best to scowl, but failed to do so. He set out for the Heywood farm the day after the holidays were officially over, a ring in his pocket.

••••••••••

Esther Denham hadn’t thought her life would go this way.

At the age of seventeen, she was certain that she and her stepbrother were going to be together forever. Edward wasn’t an affectionate man. But he was the only one who was there for her after her parents died. The only one who took the trouble to know her and keep her company. He also claimed to love her and promised to never leave her.

At the end of her eighteenth year on this planet, at the beginning of December, she’d overheard some town girls talking about how he’d been intimate with a maid of Lady Denham’s. She’d confronted him, and first he’d denied it, but then he’d admitted to it. He promised her that it was an accident and that it wouldn’t happen again, for she was his true love. In an attempt to prove how certain he was, he kissed her at midnight.

It had been the end of all promises. It was their first kiss, and their last kiss. Because she suddenly felt a presence in her body which was decidedly not Edward. The presence of this person filled her up with warmth. And he simultaneously felt like a cool bath on a hot summer’s day. Edward had never felt as soothing and gentle as the man. Edward was fire: burning everything he encountered on his path; he was ice: cold and unyielding. At the same time his body had been inhabited by a girl apparently, or so their aunt told them afterwards.

Her aunt wished she’d contact Lord Babington immediately, but Edward told her soulmates were forced upon them by deities and society. “What does some God above know what is good for us? Why do we let them decide.” Esther listened for a year, and kept anyone from contacting her soulmate. A year in which Edward grew even more money hungry and merciless, visited his aunt when she was ill as if her sickly form was some kind of theatre piece for him to watch, and kept screwing around.

She decided that perhaps God couldn’t know everything, but both God and she herself could clearly see that Edward was bad for her. She gave up on his empty promises. It had been a hard thing to do. He turned her life into a living hell, calling her names, berating her and exercising all male control he could. All the while he kept on screwing Clara in an attempt to disgrace her, but Clara managed to avoid the truth getting out to anyone except Esther. She became isolated. And all his comments on her stupidity seeped right through her skin. She was too proud to show him how they got to her, but in the privacy of her room she couldn’t help but break down a little more each day. She hated herself for ever having been in love with him. She hated herself for trusting men. She hated herself for being stupid and powerless. And the only thing which could have been good about her life, her soulmate, had been taking from her by her own stupidity as well. She’d been seventeen and had still been years away from turning twenty-two, but she’d known that others could get into her body at the stroke of midnight. The only impression her soulmate would have, would be that instead of awaiting a soulmate or celebrating the New Year, that she’d been kissing someone else, without a wedding ring in sight that would excuse it.

She refrained from contacting her soulmate in the following years as well. She felt she’d ruined it. He was a lord. He’d be wealthy and well acquainted with the ways of the world. Meanwhile she was poor, was involved in an improper relationship as far as he knew, and had spent all her life in a stupid seaside town. Nothing about her would be attractive to a lord. She hadn’t made a good first impression, the only thing she could do was avoid him to keep him from discovering more bad things about her. If they met, he’d find out she’d been kissing her stepbrother. If that didn’t make him run: her stupidity and lack of wealth would make it happen. Besides, she didn’t know if she could trust another man, even one whose presence felt like a comfortable blanket.

In her twenty third year of life, she knew their paths were bound to cross again. She wondered if he was the way he seemed when he inhabited her body for a minute. She wondered what he thought of her. Though she knew she wouldn’t get answers. She decided it would be for the best if she didn’t give him a way to contact her. The only thing she wished to do, was to find a way to apologize.

She hadn’t expected to interact with someone. She hadn’t expected him to be this prepared. She hadn’t expected to be forgiven. She hadn’t expected to hear what he was like, and she hadn’t expected to be able to look at his face. He was actually quite handsome. But her confidence was so low, hearing of his forgiveness only made her feel worse. She felt too self-aware. She couldn’t believe she was matched to wealthy lord, who was so kind he’d forgive her and wish her all happiness. She wasn’t worth the forgiveness, and she wasn’t worthy of such a fine spouse, she was so much _less_.

She was glad that she’d managed to apologize. But going into his body had been a curse, for now his face filled her dreams, and her mind kept conjuring images of situations which could never happen.

‘Is there something the matter, cousin?’

‘Nothing you should know of, Clara.’

‘I’m not your enemy.’

‘How can you be something else, if we’re vying for the same thing?’

‘I would like to have some of her money, yes. I have none of it myself. This is a competition, but it’s not worth this fight.’

‘You have no problem fighting over it with my brother in the most creative of ways.’

‘Don’t tell me you want him? Whatever you imagine, that is quite impossible. And he’s not a good man, you’re a fool if you can’t see that. Besides, it’s all on Edward. I never initiated anything. He keeps forcing himself on me, and I keep barely avoiding scandal. I don’t want him, and I don’t want scandal. A scandal will be the end of me.’

‘I don’t want him. And I don’t really care about the money either. That’s always been Edward. I just wanted a happy life.’

Clara nodded.

‘We could be allies, you know. The two of us are stronger and smarter than him.’

‘And do what?’

‘I don’t know. But we could stop him from influencing our lives so much. We could support each other… You turned twenty-two last year, do you know your soulmate?’

‘Yes but… I… We can’t.’

‘I rejected mine as well. I told you before I managed to survive Edward because I was used to someone a lot worse in my previous home. There’s an automatic connection between soulmates, he probably felt what happened to me. To anyone who knows the extent of what I’ve experienced, I’m ruined goods. And he’s so privileged. I would risk his reputation if he’d have me at all, since he probably knows or suspects what happened.’

Eshter didn’t feel comfortable confiding in Clara yet. She was still suspicious, despite her cousin’s openness. But in a matter of months, that changed. Clara made sure Esther spent a lot of time in Lady Denham’s house, away from Edward’s influence. The old woman wasn’t particularly enjoyable, but Esther managed to score some points for making an effort for her aunt.

In turn, Esther made sure to follow Edward and Clara. An end came to Edward’s days of trying to ruin Clara. In Juli of the same year, the women outed Edward’s gambling, dalliances with kitchen maids, and attempts to find and destroy Lady Denham’s will when the old woman took ill.

Edward was scrapped from the will, and banished from Sanditon.

••••••••••

Charlotte and Sidney had been courting for six months. It hadn’t always been easy. Sidney had been imperious, hard, arrogant and guarded, despite being eager to get to know his soulmate. And Charlotte had been overly open and young. But by and by, they got to understand one another, and had brought out the best in each other. She’d altered him so much, that he even started feeling guilty for ignoring his brother’s pleas for help and support in Sanditon. And so, under Charlotte’s encouragements, it was decided that they were going to marry in Sanditon. Charlotte was a small country girl, and wouldn’t have minded a small wedding, but upon meeting his brother, she felt her marriage to his brother could help to put Sanditon on the map, which in turn would help Sanditon grow and bring money to the oldest Parker brother.

All Heywoods moved to the town for the summer months. As she lived there, she got to know Sidney’s ward Miss Georgiana, and quickly befriended her, despite the girl being quite reserved at first because she thought Charlotte would support Sidney in everything. But she learned very quickly that Charlotte wasn’t like Sidney, and that she didn’t have any problem opposing him if she thought it would make Georgiana’s life better. She also got to know Lady Denham and her cousins, the ladies were quite reserved and though she didn’t like the Lady or Miss Brereton too much, Miss Denham’s manners and humour reminded her of Sidney which lead to Charlotte taking an instant liking to her. She sometimes wondered if the Esther Denham of Sanditon had been the Esther she’d met at the end of the previous year. She knew that Esther hadn’t wanted to meet her soulmate, but she couldn’t help but think how delightful it would be if Sidney’s best friend would find true love in Sanditon, in a girl she liked very much. She tried to find anything which would give away whether Esther Denham was the Esther of New Year’s Eve. She was quite funny, and the Esther of New Year hadn’t been funny. This Esther also had quite a confident air, which the Esther of New Year didn’t have. She also didn’t know the age of this Esther. In the end she decided that it was unlikely that it was the same Esther, since this one gave no sign of recognition when she was introduced to Charlotte. While the Esther of New Year’s Eve should have recognized her name, and the face of her fiancé.

She befriended some of the workmen as well, and grew even closer to the eldest Parker. Before the wedding took place, Charlotte managed to create a series of events to draw attention to the town, from a regatta to a ball to entertain Sidney’s London acquaintances before the wedding.

It was a great success. Everything was booked. Even the newly built block of buildings was rented and inhabited before they had applied the finishing touches. The last licks of paint were for after the wedding. Tom was ecstatic.

••••••••••

Esther had known, the second she saw Sidney Parker after his years of absence, with a young lady holding on to his arm, that she would be in trouble.

He was the man she’d sat next to when she was transported into the body of her fiancé. If he was going to marry, his friends would no doubt come.

She felt the instinctive need to hide, but since she met the two at a dinner, she was incapable of doing so. So she just put on her habitual confident and indifferent air, and pretended not to recognize them when they were introduced. Clara had noticed her freezing when the Parker brother entered the dining room however, and asked her about it after everyone had left.

Gods ways were ineffable, it turned out, since Clara recognized the man as well. It was that even they realized they were destined to be with Mr. Parker’s two friends. And they both comforted the other with the knowledge that their soulmates didn’t know what they looked like. Though Mr. Crowe knew Clara’s surname. They vouched to keep the others identity safe in case one of them was revealed though.

At the dinner, Esther had inconspicuously asked when the guests would start coming in. First, they would the day before the wedding, but that changed when Miss Heywood made an event calendar to lure the guests sooner. News came out that Mr. Parker’s friends would come in early and participate in the regatta. Esther and Clara stayed away with their aunt, who had ‘no desire in running around on a hill to get mud on a dress , and risk twisting an ankle on the grass.’

The midsummer ball, however, was inevitable. But they were grateful for Charlotte for giving the ball a theme. In a popular twist on the divine night, Charlotte had decided to make it a costumed party. Everyone was to wear a mask. And at the stroke of midnight, everyone would reveal their identity to their dance partner, like the identity of soulmates was uncovered at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Esther and Clara knew Mr. Crowe and Lord Babington would be present, and they knew a certain Esther Denham and _the_ Clara Brereton would be present.

Since Miss Heywood mentioned a Clara and an Esther attending the ball, both Crowe and Babington had agonized over whether or not to go looking for them. Crowe had done the Crowe thing and gotten himself drunk, and Babington had done the Babington thing and accepted Miss Heywood’s negative answer on whether she thought it might be his soulmate called Esther.

••••••••••

Charlotte greeted Esther and Clara with a big smile. She was wearing a swan mask, and it suited her perfectly. Esther had opted for a dark blue mask covering her eyes. A blue floorlength veil was attached to it as well, hiding a good part of her hair. Clara wore a simple white mask hiding half of her face.

A tall figure which couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s than Sidney Parker made his way towards them, with three other men and a lady in tow.

‘Ah, ladies. I’d like to introduce my friends.’

‘Is this not a masked ball? You shouldn’t, Mr. Parker’, noted Esther.

‘Alright, but you already know my name?’

‘I think you’re a bit too recognisable, Mr. Parker’, laughed his fiancée.

‘But how am I to introduce my friends?’

‘Fake names. Anyone can be anyone tonight”, decided Clara.

‘I shall be Lord Dionysys.. sus?’, slurred a man with curly hair and a red mask obscuring his entire face except his mouth region. On both cheeks, wine bottles were drawn.

‘How fitting’, Clara smirked.

Esther couldn’t help but smile.

‘Ser Lancelot’, said another.

‘Lady of the Lake’, decided the woman with black hair in a long white and blue dress with many jewels. ‘Pleased to meet you, and nice to see you again, Charlotte.’

‘Lady Su-‘ Charlotte tried asking, but the woman laid a finger on her lips. ‘We must keep the mystery. Even though I cheated.’

Everyone now focussed on the last man. His hair was almost invisible underneath his black hat, and his face was concealed by a black scarf with holes cut out for the eyes. Fake whiskers and a goatee were drawn on his upper lip and chin.

‘I don’t want to be any ser or lord tonight, I shall be Claude Duval.’

‘I am Miss Swan tonight’, decided Charlotte.

‘I shall be Miss Bennett. Since I enjoyed Pride and Prejudice’, Clara decided.

Esther looked about.

‘I’m afraid I’m not feeling particularly inspired.’ She thought about popular works of fiction and myths and legends which might tell something about her.

‘I shall go by the name Rhiannon.’ A strong minded goddess who chose her own husband and was often misinterpreted wasn’t a bad thing to be.

‘Our friend assures us of good sport here, shall we find any?’ asked the inebriated incarnation of the God of Wine.

‘I believe there is very little shooting in the neighbourhood, sir’, Esther shot back. The sooner Mr. Parker’s friends left them, the better.

‘I wasn’t thinking of shooting.’

‘My friend was thinking of dancing, I’m sure’, the highwayman dressed in black laughed while looking at his friend.

‘Could we persuade any of you young ladies to dance with us?’

It was the opposite of what Esther desired. But Charlotte skipped to her fiancé, Clara was approached by the Arthurian knight and she herself was approached by the highwayman.

‘You do wish to dance with me, don’t you?’

‘I suppose the intention of a ball is to dance.’

‘That doesn’t mean you wish to be dancing.’

‘I didn’t think a highwayman would take into account what someone desires.’

‘I’m not just any highwayman. I’m Duval. I’m a gentleman thief.’

‘And a thief of hearts, who asks women to dance with him after robbing their husbands.’

‘Ah, I’ve forgotten something then. Pray tell where your husband is, so I can rob him first.’

Esther had to laugh and shook her head.

‘Unfortunately, I have yet to find a husband who can be robbed.’

‘Pick one, if memory serves me well, you picked your own husband.’

That certainly got a new connotation, taking into account how she was avoiding her soulmate at this very moment. She wished she could distinguish the colour of his eyes or the structure of his hair. But both were shielded by the black fabric and hat. She could currently be dancing with him. Either that, or he was dancing with the Lady of the Lake. Clara was most definitely dancing with Mr. Crowe. Mr. Crowe hadn’t worn a hat, and she’d recognized him immediately. She wondered if Clara knew she was dancing with her soulmate.

‘I do. But I have yet to find someone I deem worthy of the title.’

‘Ha! And pray tell, what set of accomplishments must a man show before you deem him worthy, or do you deem the one chosen by Night Divine to be the worthy candidate?’

If Esther stepped on his foot, it was entirely by accident. How to tackle that topic? She collected her wits, after a nervous giggle escaped her mouth.

‘We’ve only known each other for five minutes, and you’re already asking about my soulmate? You rogue. Let’s not discuss it. The whole point of tonight is to have fun and pretend that we’re looking for our soulmate blindly, until the clock chimes midnight. It’ll be the only time we can choose whose identity we wish to be revealed. I like to choose a soulmate for tonight, let’s not discuss the more serious variant.’

The man bit his lip. ‘As you wish, my goddess.’

Her heart was definitely not beating faster, thank you very much, nor were her cheeks burning. Esther decided their interactions were going way too smoothly. She decided to remain silent for the rest of the dance.

‘You wish to remain mysterious’, he concluded at the end of the dance.

‘Isn’t that the way of deities? Their ways are a mystery to the mortals. I’ve got to keep up the pretence.’

‘And you do so excellently. In some way, nights like these are supposed to strip one of the pretence of our usual lives, so we can be our truest selves, but our true self remains a mystery still, since our covers add a new layer to us. I sometimes wonder when one can be without pretence, I’m starting to think my life has been too full of it.’

‘I doubt there are many among us who can say that they've lived a life free from pretence.’

‘Well, then, surely, if we're to lead a better life we're honour bound to free ourselves from such a burden.’

The dance required Esther to take the hand of another man, which gave her time to reflect. She did tire of pretending. Pretending to be fine to others, pretending being cold and uncaring, pretending she wasn’t worried about meeting her soulmate, but the pretence seeped deeper than that: she tried to pretend to herself that she was alright with not meeting her soulmate. She pretended the dreams filled with visions of a future with him didn’t happen. It was tiring. She did admire the highwayman for his openness and friendliness, but at the same time his openness intimidated her. She wished she could remain silent and maintain her façade, because right now, she was everything but calm. He made her laugh, he made her wonder, he made her reflect, he made her curious, and his tall form made her stomach uneasy.

Lord Babington was struggling with his emotions as well. Every day for the past five years, a girl had been on the back of his mind, popping up whenever he was enjoying himself with someone else. She did now too, as he was enjoying a dance with the vibrant young woman in blue. He knew that somewhere out there, a sad insecure Esther lived, who didn’t deem herself worthy of her soulmate. He felt guilty for enjoying himself while she was depressed, with a funny, witty and confidant woman who clearly didn’t care a fig about soulmates. He wondered whether the woman in his arms had experienced Night Divine herself. He assumed she had, most young women who hadn’t were all star-eyed thinking about the moment they could finally contact their true love, while she seemed unwilling to think about him. A woman who didn’t want to think about her own soulmate, would perhaps not mind to be with a person who had a soulmate but was still single, like himself.

‘I feel disinclined to be in agreement with you too much, too soon. I wouldn’t want to give the impression I’m enjoying the company of a highwayman.’

Lord Babington had to laugh again. ‘No, no, no, no. Whatever you do, you must guard against that. The humiliation. You have your reputation to consider.’

‘And you yours, though I’m sure yours is beyond redemption.’

The woman nodded. The dance had ended, but their conversation hadn’t, and against her better judgement, Esther was persuaded to give him the next dance as well, when he offered her his hand.

‘I admit, I am a highwayman. But I think you’d be surprised. I’m not such a good-for-nothing as I would like. Had the king known me, he wouldn’t have hung me.’

The edges of reality started to blur, as both kept on drawing from the stories surrounding their characters. Yet, though while pretending to be another, Lord Babington spoke only truth when he admitted that he had spent his life pretending to be a good-for-nothing dandy who enjoyed gambling and women, in his darkest dreams, he wished to have a domestic life, filled with peace. And he wished peace for his friends as well. He’d much rather see them all nicely settled, instead of them having yet another drunken story to tell.

‘Are you going to tell me you are a misunderstood Robin Hood, who gifted to the poor instead? How cliché.’

‘Cliché?’

‘All thieves pretend to be good. Why can’t any of them just own up to the fact that they’re thieves? Not everything on this planet is done with good intentions. One can be satisfied if something if one’s actions merit oneself, to have those actions merit others as well is quite rare.’

‘You wouldn’t mind me stealing for my own merit only?’

‘It’s not good, by any means. But I believe it is still better if your actions serve you, than if you do things simply because you feel forced by society or acquaintances, in such cases, your actions don’t serve anyone. Those are the worst kinds of actions, not the selfish ones which merit you, not those who merit others, but those you do simply because you are expected to.’

‘You are full of wisdom, goddess Rhiannon. I hope our society will, in some future, learn not to apply so much pressure on its people. But in the meantime we can fight it by leading by example. Let’s not do things simply because they are expected of us.’

Esther bit her lip. She felt that her original comment, which had been meant to be merely amusing, had escalated and turned into something far too revealing and outright. Her words surprised even herself. What had she done not for herself but for something like society or propriety?

‘Spoken as a man and a thief. Women do not have such freedom. Should we go against the written and unwritten rules of society, our reputations would be tarnished. A lady’s reputation is everything. I shall leave men to the task, since they get every other important task in the world as well, save for childbearing.’

‘My word’, he laughed. She certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Of course, he could be just about anyone, instead of a Lord who indeed got all his money and his job simply by being born into the right household, and being born male. But it was still a bold statement to say to anyone. He knew quite a few women, in the higher ranks of society, who might exclaim similar things if they were wealthy enough, and they were either widowed or married to a particularly liberal husband. He had to admit he admired her spirit.

The song ended and the lady bowed.

‘Now I shall take my leave, so you might steal another woman’s heart. I’m quite attached to mine.’

‘But isn’t the fun in risking it?’ Babington couldn’t help but ask.

‘You have an awful idea of fun, you rascal.’

She disappeared, her stunning blue veil floating behind her.

••••••••••

Esther, Charlotte and Georgiana went outside to catch some air, and discuss the ball. Inside, the men were doing the same. The Lady of the Lake joined them and informed Charlotte that the oldest Mr. Parker was looking for her. She apologized and left.

‘How's your pursuit of the lady in blue progressing, then, Babington? I noticed you two shared two dances, and you seemed to be having a good time.’

‘Very well. She professes she must keep from agreeing with me, and has encouraged me to find other ladies for the evening. She's deliciously witty and smart. She had no problem playing the: men get to do everything card.’

‘Saucy bitch. And you, a peer of the realm. Has she any idea?’ asked Crowe.

Babington shook his head, smiling.

‘I love it’, Crowe laughed.

‘So, how long before you, er, bring her to heel?’

‘"Bring her to heel"? She's not a dog, Crowe, she's a young lady. Besides, there’s still Esther.’

‘She needs to be mastered. And mastering a girl is a great deal of fun. You’ve held on to her for over five years, Babington. Are you going to wait for her the rest of your life? All I’m saying is if you really like this one, why not go chase her? A real woman is so much better than some untouchable soulmate somewhere on the world’, venom seeped through his words. Years of his soulmate avoiding him while he felt her pain, made him grow bitter and frustrated. Lord Babington could hardly blame him, luck had never been on Crowe’s side. He couldn’t blame his friend from wanting to move on from his soulmate. But right now, during a ball, was not the time to have a serious conversation about it.

‘Mind you, I like a bit of spirit in a girl’, Babington admitted, continuing the conversation as if he wasn’t worried… and wasn’t seriously considering pursuing the red haired woman, which he was.

‘That Austen girl I was dancing with, she’s got some real spunk about her. I like that in a woman. If I found her in a certain other setting, I would definitely take her to my chambers’, he grinned.

‘You pig!’ scolded Lord Babington.

‘Now now, Crowe, perhaps a glass of orange juice would do you well’, frowned Sidney.

‘Not now’, his friend said as he noticed the girl standing beside an old woman.

He took off in her direction.

••••••••••

By the time Esther went looking for Clara, it was too late. Clara had gone to her aunt, and Mr. Crowe had gone to Mr. Tom Parker, who had been talking to Charlotte, to ask who the old woman who didn’t bother with a mask was. He quite forgot the charade, and pointed out that it was Lady Denham, the wealthy patron of the town, with her ward Miss Brereton. Charlotte then saw Mr. Crowe marching towards Lady Denham and Clara.

Esther puzzled together Charlotte’s words with her own knowledge. Mr. Crowe might have been drunk, but not that drunk as to forget the surname of his soulmate. He had gone to her, demanding to know her first name, and Lady Denham had ruined it further by exclaiming: ‘Clara, what on earth is the meaning of all this.’

Mr. Crowe’s anger slipped out of him, and he turned on all his charm when replying Lady Denham that he was her soulmate, and she had been avoiding him for three years. He asked Lady Denham whether he was allowed to have a conversation with her while taking a turn about the room, and she had granted it.

Now the two of them were nowhere to be seen, and Esther most definitely panicked.

‘We must find them. You may not know, but they are soulmates. Mr. Crowe is drunk, and Clara has hidden herself from him for years. She only hid herself because it was risky to make herself known. Perhaps if he was sober I might have trusted them to have a civil conversation about it. But he isn’t.’

‘I had no idea’, Charlotte stammered.

‘What can we do?’ asked Lady Georgiana, clearly the most clear headed one.

‘We need to search. Each goes a different direction. Check for any open rooms or remote places.’

‘I take the upstairs’, Georgiana decided.

‘I take the left hallway, there are some two rooms open there, and some dark corners’, Charlotte said as she took her leave as well.

Which left Esther to do the hallway on the right. She tried to look inconspicuous at first, but grew more hurried as time progressed. But no door nor corner offered relief. She didn’t find a trace of her cousin anywhere.

She remained in the main hallway, unwilling to go in without finding her cousin, when suddenly, that very person emerged in the portal of the main door leading out towards the street. Everyone had looked on the inside of the building. It hadn’t crossed their mind that they may have left the building altogether. Behind her, an unmasked man walked, he was surprisingly steady on his feet. He seemed to have sobered overtime.

‘Cousin’, Clara greeted her without revealing her name, as they’d promised.

‘Are you alright?’

‘I am. We talked things over… Well, it was more like shouting from time to time… And crying. But I’m fine. We’re engaged.’

‘You are?’

Clara nodded, unable to hide her smile as tears started slipping out of the corners of her eyes.

‘I couldn’t have wished for a more understanding spouse. We always assume the world to be cruel and unfair. And we almost assume the worst, and after what we experienced, who can blame us? But whatever deity lives up there, they’re right about who they set us up with.’

‘Stop it. You’re making us sound soppy. I might just vomit if I hear any more love and sunshine shit’, Crowe moaned.

‘Then step back. I need to say something to her in private anyway.’

Crowe raised his eyebrows, daring her to command him around. She only raised her eyebrows in return, and he stepped back.

‘Cousin. If he could accept me, there is no reason to believe your soulmate might not accept you as well. Go and have fun tonight, and try to find him. All is not lost, I can scarcely believe it myself.’

‘I don’t know, Clara.’

Her thoughts slipped to the curly brown hair and bluish green eyes of the man she’d seen in the mirror last December. But then they slipped to the tall man in black. She still didn’t know his identity.

‘Ah, there you are. I was starting to wonder where you… Oh, we were looking for you too!’ Charlotte and Georgiana walked into the hallway together.

‘We’re here. Everything’s fine’, Esther said quickly.

‘What’s fine?’ a deep voice asked behind her.

‘Everything’, Esther said in a haughty tone as she turned to face Sidney Parker.

Charlotte floated to the arm of her beloved.

‘Let’s return to the party. I want to dance’, she cooed. Sidney Parker tried and failed not to smile.

Ser Lancelot and the highwayman remained near the edge of the ballroom. She knew she should try out Lancelot to discover whether he was Lord Babington, but she found herself being asked to dance by Lord Babington again.

••••••••••

‘Why, you would think there’s not a single other maid in the room.’

‘Do you wish it?’

‘Fine.’

‘Gone cold again in an attempt to not be too agreeable?’

‘Why insist if you’re treated with so little civility?’

‘Perhaps it is the fascination of trying to keep up with your verbal sparring. All I know is the more I speak with you, the more drawn I am to you.’

Esther bit her lip. He was being way too forthright, but unfortunately, their earlier conversations had given him reason to speak earnestly.’

‘You’ve only known me for a couple of hours. First impressions are important but they’re rarely accurate. It’s all superficial.’

‘Was our conversation superficial? I don’t believe so.’

‘We were pretending to be a goddess and a thief throughout the entirety of our conversation. Besides, isn’t there a soulmate? You have to be over twenty-two.’

‘You yourself critiqued me when I made a joke about soulmates a couple of hours ago. And you critiqued me just now for admitting that I liked you based on a couple of hours of knowing you, yet you ask about my soulmate? Someone fate links me to, despite that I’ve never met her? If I would like her upon seeing her, nobody would consider it strange. Yet, to spend hours with you and then decide I like you, is somehow considered too soon?’

Esther found herself rendered speechless.

‘I shall ignore that you wish to avoid discussing your soulmate, and shall talk about mine, as I respect our mutual wish to live a life without pretence, and your wish that men lead by example’, he decided with a smile. ‘I have one, yes. And she has no wish of contacting me even though she knows my full name and address, while I only know her first name is Esther. I have no contact with her. I felt bad about it for a long time, but I believe that if she hasn’t looked for me in years, I’m allowed to choose a fake soulmate for one evening, don’t you agree?’

It was him. It was Lord Babington. All night, she’d been drawn towards her soulmate without knowing who he was, talking to him and laughing with him had been as easy as breathing.

‘You said that this night, you wished to be free to choose the identity of someone at the stroke of midnight, while ignoring real life soulmates. I do as well. It’s only for a night, after all.’

She shook her head, considering how ridiculous their interaction was now that she knew of his identity. ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘I’m serious.’

_Oh, she’d said it out loud._

‘I wasn’t expecting this.’

She wasn’t expecting to be confronted with her own words, nor had she expected she would be drawn to her soulmate. She knew what would happen on midnight if she stayed with him. All masks fell off, and she would be face to face with her fate. Stripped of all pretence. She wanted him, the man in front of her. And she had loved every part of him, she enjoyed how his soul felt, she enjoyed how his face looked in the mirror on New Year’s Eve, and she enjoyed his openness, cheerfulness and jokes throughout the night.

But he didn’t know. And she wondered how he’d react.

The music changed, and their right hands slipped towards the other’s body, as their left hands formed a circle above them. It was a more intimate number.

‘I would hate to be a hypocrite. I too wanted to choose someone to discover the identity of at midnight. I believe I have now refrained from agreeing with you for a sufficient period of time. We’ve agreed on disliking pretence, let’s drop the last bit of pretence at midnight.’

Her heart was in her throat, and she could barely breathe.

His gaze was incredibly intense as they continued their dance, which existed of testing the space between them with hands which were a hair’s breath from touching. Every step closer was followed by two steps to create distance, and every time they reached for one another, was followed by a turn away.

Her arms were covered in goose bumps and her fingers ached to touch him.

She was dancing with her soulmate, and he had confessed to enjoying her. He enjoyed her when it was only she, he didn’t know of her poverty or position in society or Edward. Though all that would come very soon, at the stroke of midnight. But right now, she lived in a world in which he actually liked her, and she liked him. And in this short-lived world, a happy ending seemed almost within reach. She wished she could leave her name behind and be like this forever, her and him, stripped down to their personality, nothing more, nothing less.

A heat pooled in her belly. She was hot and cold all at once. Just two steps removed from fainting.

And just like that, the music stopped, and the countdown started.

She could only stare as he took off his hat, revealing lovely tousled brown curls.

‘It has been a lovely evening, goddess Rhiannon.’

Esther’s mouth was dry.

She could barely keep her hands from shaking.

Even her hearing was starting to shut down, the voices counting down seemed far removed, instead of near.

Her heart was now racing at an unprecedented speech.

‘One!’

She could dimly hear the people shouting and the music starting a joyful tune. The only thing her senses could focus on, was Lord Babington reaching for the back of his head, and removing the fabric covering half his face. He used it to swipe away the whiskers and goatee as well, though there were still grayish lines on his face.

Despite the dread running through her, she couldn’t help but smile.

‘What?’

She reached out, brushing over his upper lip and chin with her thumb to remove the makings on his face.

He didn’t move an inch. His tongue flew out to quickly wet his lips once she’d withdrawn her thumb. The air between them was buzzing.

Their eyes never left each other’s.

It was her turn to remove her mask.

Then the charade would end.

With shaking hands, she tried to remove her mask, but it was in vain. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, to focus on the feeling of the knotted satin sashes keeping her mask stuck to her face. She gasped for breath as her hands were covered by large warm ones.

‘Allow me.’

And within seconds, Esther’s dark brown eyes met those of Lord Babington.

She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined, despite that her mask hadn’t concealed that much.

He was still holding on to her mask, a fact he only became aware of when her delicate hands tried to take it from his.

‘I’m Lord Babington.’

As Esther opened her mouth, she could feel the air prickling her dry tongue. Only seconds now until the evening ended, and she would discover what the rest of her life would look like.

‘My name…’ Her voice gave up on the ‘a’, and she broke eye contact for a second before looking up. ‘Is Esther Denham.’

Lord Babington smiled at her.

‘Pleased to meet you.’

She frowned. She hadn’t expected him to act like this. She didn’t know what to expect, but it hadn’t been an easy smile.

Nor had she expected him to take her hand and press a kiss to it, as he was doing now.

_He didn’t know her surname. He didn’t know._

‘And I’m your soulmate.’

His eyes shot up, but he remained there, bent over with his lips hovering above her palm. And in that instant, he saw how the façade had fallen as well as the mask. Insecurity, shame and sadness shone through her glassy eyes.

She had red hair like his soulmate.

She carried the name of his soulmate.

She hadn’t been intending on finding her soulmate tonight.

She’d shown deep and dark thoughts, but had shown a certain gentleness as well.

And she’d shown a humorous side as well.

It all matched.

‘I believe you are.’

They’d chosen each other, out of all people in this room.

He didn’t know how to navigate their interactions with this newly found knowledge. Just a couple of months ago, she had no wish for him. What were they to do, now that they had met and decided to like one another?

‘Now you know the truth. Now you know that I am the one who deliberately avoided you for five years. Now you know that this is the face of the woman who was kissing another man when you entered her body. Are you not disgusted? Are you not annoyed by my refusal to meet you?’

‘I don’t give a damn about your past, I never did. I always only wanted to know you. I wouldn’t have forced you to marry me if you were unwilling. I just wished to meet you, to discover the person I was matched with.’

‘I don’t wish to be your property. Or anyone’s. I don’t do well listening to men.’ She’d done enough of that, and had learned from her mistakes. She would never be as dependent on another man as she had been on Edward. She would never again rely on a man’s opinions, or allow him to decide for her.

‘Good, because I have no wish to own you.’

‘Why else would you want your soulmate?’

‘At first, I wanted you just because you were my soulmate. Then because I felt you, when you entered my body. I could feel your soul, and I admit I liked it. But then tonight I met you, and I was amazed by your spirit, your wit, your intellect, your humour, and now by your beauty. I can just imagine myself being in love with you. I only want to walk through life by your side.’

‘But, I’m poor. And I screwed up before.’

‘You said yourself that deciding on something for no one’s merit, like for the sake of society, is a horrible decision.’

‘Very well, then.’

‘You acc- you accept me?’

She bit her lip, to keep from reaching out to him.

‘I do.’

•••••••••• 

And if, after he asked her aunt, they disappeared in one of the dark corners she had checked before to exchange some real affection, no one had to know.

Who said a night could only be divine once a year?

**Author's Note:**

> \- https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofEngland/Highwaymen/ The most gallant of the Heath’s highwaymen was French-born Claude Duval. He was idolised by the ladies he robbed, as he made much use of his ‘gallic charm’. His manners it seems were impeccable as far as his lady victims were concerned! He once insisted on dancing with one of his victims after robbing her husband of £100. Claude Duval was hanged at Tyburn on 21st January 1670 and buried at Convent Garden. His grave was marked (now destroyed) by a stone with the following epitaph:- “Here lies Duval, if male thou art, look to your purse, if female to thy heart.”
> 
> \- About the potential problematic situation of soulmates in this story: Soulmates are assumed by the characters to be m/f because it is still Regency England and homosexuality is still looked down upon. Soulmates came into existence in the deeply religious Middle Ages where even sex between married couples was considered some kind of sinful. I imagine that most people would hide their soulmates, in case they were of the same gender, to people they didn’t know well. This would make soulmates of the same gender a rarely reported and often hidden story. This in turn, caused society to keep on looking down on bisexuality and homosexuality. About polyamorous relationships: not featured in my story and not really thought about. I imagine that if, for example, three people are the same age, they would spend thirty seconds in each body. It’s just a one shot, I wasn’t going to spend a lot of time building a lore when it wasn’t important to the story, sorry!


End file.
